Brewed Awakenings
by bundysbaby
Summary: A smushy, sweet story about my two favorite things: Jim and Trixie (they count as one) and coffee. A big thank you to all my Constant Readers! Your comments and continued support light up my day. I can't express how much you all mean to me.
1. Chapter 1

Trixie Belden stood outside of the coffee shop that was on the verge of opening up in downtown Sleepyside. It was right near the train station for the harried commuters; and right in the heart of the shopping district for those weary shoppers needing a caffeine jolt.

There was a large sign in front. **Now Hiring**, it read, and she hesitated before walking in to complete an application for barista. She felt vaguely disloyal to Wimpy's. However, Wimpy's _wasn't_ hiring. Mike hadn't needed anyone in years; his staff was intensely loyal to the popular diner.

Crimper's Department Store wasn't hiring either. Neither was the hardware store, the daycare place (although she shuddered at being left with a bunch of Bobbys) or the bookstore. She might have gotten a job at her dad's bank, but even they weren't hiring. She desperately needed a job to get her mind off of one Jim Frayne. Oh, and to save for college, too.

Honey Wheeler, her best friend, was working for her father this summer. That meant working from home occasionally and going into New York City with the peripatetic Matthew Wheeler. Diana Lynch, the other female member of the BWGs, was spending the summer out west, helping her Uncle Monty with his dude ranch.

The boys were all counselors at various upstate camps. Brian and Mart were at a science-themed camp; Jim at one for disadvantaged children and Dan was at a camp that emphasized outdoor activity and getting fit.

The BWGS were scattered this summer. It was just a reminder that they were growing up, and things were changing. Not fast enough to suit Trixie, however; she was still pining after the most wonderful boy in the world.

The most wonderful boy who still treated her as if she were a hotheaded thirteen-year-old, careening into danger without a thought as to consequences. Trixie hesitated to think about all the girls Jim must be meeting at college. Dating, perhaps, although he never spoke of it. Neither did any of the guys, except for Dan.

_He_, apparently, was going through the females in Manhattan like a hot knife through butter. They all seemed to love the dark-haired, handsome man with the streak of bad-boy showing through.

It wasn't as if Trixie didn't have the opportunity to date. She did. It was just that she didn't want to date Tad Webster or Nick Roberts or anyone else in Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School for that matter.

What was she? _Crazy?_

Trixie took a deep breath and opened the glass door with the familiar logo on front_. And Sleepyside steps into the 1990s,_ she thought. _Here goes nothin'!_

A couple of hours later, she was standing back outside the shop, rather dazed. She had a job! And training was going to start tomorrow! She never expected that she would be hired on the spot. The interviewer was impressed with the pretty, perky seventeen-year-old. She was smart, energetic, and socially active within the community. Just the sort of person they wanted behind the counter.

Trixie was bursting with the news, and she just had to tell someone! She sprinted the block or so to her dad's bank, a smile wreathing her face. She pushed open the heavy door. "Hi, Mrs. Van Loon. Is my father free?"

The receptionist looked up with a smile. "Let me buzz him and see, Trixie." She pressed a button. "Mr. Belden? Your daughter is here to see you." She waved Trixie to his office as she hung up the phone. "He's free. Go right ahead back there."

Trixie burst into Peter Belden's office with her characteristic energy and enthusiasm. "Daddy! Guess what?"

Before he even had a chance to reply, Trixie rushed headlong into speech. "I got a job at the new coffee shop in town! I start tomorrow! Isn't that great?" She dashed around his desk, much as she had done when she was a little girl, throwing her arms around his neck.

"That's wonderful news, Princess! Congratulations!" Peter kissed her on the cheek with mixed feelings. It was fantastic she had scored a job, but yet it was just another sign his little girl was growing up and away from him.

"Mart told me I can use his car if I _have_ to," she grinned. The counselors were not permitted personal vehicles at the camp where he and Brian were working.

"Well, it appears to me you _have_ to." Trixie was a good driver. She could either use Mart's rather beat-up red Cobalt, or Peter and Helen could work it out between their two cars and Trixie. Come to think of it, it might be safer for Trixie to use one of the family cars. At least _they_ were in good repair.

"Thanks, Daddy. I need to get back to Crabapple Farm. See you later!" Like a whirlwind, she was gone. He shook his head again and laughed. His Princess. There really was no-one else like her!

She sent a text message to all the other BWGs. It was exhilarating to get a job but she wished they were closer to share in her excitement. _Especially_ Jim. Maybe he would notice she was growing up now. Trixie didn't hold her breath, though. She might forever be relegated to 'childhood friend' status and would just have to be happy with that.

Jim Frayne's cell phone vibrated in his pocket, but he didn't pull it out to look at it. As a senior counselor, he knew that personal cell phone use while working was frowned upon. It weighed on his mind though as he assisted the junior counselors with their charges. There was only one person that would message him during the day, and she was back home in Sleepyside.

_Trixie._

The familiar acid began to churn in his stomach. She was bright and capable, and had settled down a tremendous amount from her days as a thirteen-year-old spitfire. But he still worried about her, especially now that she was alone. Honey was spending a lot of time in the New York apartment. Di was gone as well as all the male BWGs.

And Lord only knows what his special girl was getting up to nowadays. If Trixie could peer into his brain, she would be shocked to discover that he thought about _her_ as much as she thought about _him_.

He fisted his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for the phone. He vowed silently that, once he got back home, he would finally make Trixie his girl. It was about time he declared himself, and only hoped that she was free to be his.

_And_ that she wasn't involved in another mystery. He really didn't mind when they were all together, but Trixie on her own could be just a little… dangerous.

He was chagrined to find a smile slipping across his face. _Oh yeah_. He liked her that way.

_Seriously _liked her that way.

Jim stared out over the glittering lake, past the volleyball war between the reds and the blues. He was biding his time, waiting for Trixie. He knew they called him Mr. Honorable, but feelings for the curly-haired blonde in the hollow were anything _but _honorable. Or brotherly.

A small smile tilted his lips. He was sure glad that the Beldens didn't adopt him. He jolted out of his reverie by the voice of another counselor.

"What do you say, Jim? Did Marcellus spike the ball or what?"

Jim realized he had to turn his attention back to the game. With a sigh, he said evenly. "Do-over. Let's have a do-over," to the kids' unenthusiastic groans.

Later on, after dinner, he pulled out his cell phone. _Got a job! Start tomorrow! Brewed Awakenings, that new chain! _He smiled again at the phone, almost tenderly, and one of the women in the kitchen sighed. That handsome, redheaded counselor sure had the hots for somebody back home. She shook her head and laughed, hoping it was a girl.

Jim typed out a quick message. _Happy for you Trix. Go get 'em! Although I may have to report you to the grammar police for exclamation point abuse!_ He sighed before he hit send, and decided to make a little stand. _3_. There.

He wondered what she would think of _that_.

_3_?

What did _that _mean?

Trixie knew what it meant, but what did it mean in a text coming from _Jim?_ Maybe he had her confused with someone else?

_Or maybe he really meant it for you. After all, he did call you his special girl after the fiasco in Happy Valley_. Trixie snorted. _Yeah, and he gave me an ID bracelet with his name on it, a quick peck and then… nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch._

She slid off the window seat where the stars seemed to be that much brighter tonight, and sighed. It was gonna be a long, lonely summer.

The next couple of weeks were a whirlwind of training, getting the store ready, exercising the horses with Honey when she was home, and her chores around the farm. Peter and Helen discussed the car situation and came to a decision.

They surprised Trixie with a used Honda Civic. With his community contacts through the bank, Peter was able to pick it up for a song. It was older but it ran well. "We didn't give you anything for your birthday, Trixie," Moms explained. "You'll be responsible for the insurance and upkeep. Consider this a birthday and an early graduation present." It also didn't hurt the family finances. Trixie was the recipient of a full, four-year scholarship and it eased things considerably.

Trixie's china-blue eyes widened when she saw the metallic blue sedan in the driveway with a big bow on it. She threw her arms around her parents, crying that it was way, way too much. But in the end, she tearfully accepted the keys.

She had a car! Her _very own_ car!

Jim wasn't quite worried. However, the texts and emails that came from Crabapple Farm were a little… disquieting. His special girl was having all these firsts without him being there. First real job; now first car. It bugged him she might not wait to have _other_ firsts with him. After all, she was beautiful, fun and energetic. She had an insatiable curiosity and lit up the room wherever she was.

The summer days dragged by, and he really longed to be back home, tugging on her curl and staring into those flashing blue eyes with the matching impish grin.

Max LoCascio sat in the tiny manager's office in Brewed Awakenings. He hung up the phone after being congratulated on the best opening week _ever_. A large, white smile split his handsome face. He was a man going places in the little coffee company that was challenging the giants.

Max was twenty-two years old, and on top of the world right now. He'd worked for the company ever since they opened their first store in Cornell, New York. They were great believers in promoting from within, socially conscious and fair with their employees.

Not many companies could say the same nowadays.

Max reflected on their first week. He had a great group of baristas here. A few single mothers; college kids; a few high-schoolers. But his star performer was certainly that girl with the odd name.

_Trixie._ Sounded like she should be on _The Honeymooners_ or plying her wares on 42nd Street in the City.

Whenever she was in the store, the whole place lit up like a Christmas tree. The other workers became brighter and sassier; and geez, the girl must know _every single person_ that lived in town. She was an excellent barista, too; she had patience with people and never messed up those half-caf double decaffeinated espresso with one squirt of hazelnut and a sprinkle of mocha orders that were the bane of baristas everywhere.

Trixie even solved _The Mystery of the Alarm_. Almost every night, Max would be wakened by the police, saying the alarm in the store was triggered. Several searches by the police revealed absolutely nothing; he had even gone so far as to call the alarm company, thinking it was a malfunction.

Trixie was the one who noticed when closing one night, a small black and white cat slinked in with the last customer. She watched as the kitty made himself at home in a warm corner of the store, and figured out the cat was the one setting off the motion sensors. When the police and Max searched the store, he scooted back out, unseen.

Of course, the shop _had_ to adopt him after that, and she was the one who came up with Catpuccino.

Max knew she was a little over seventeen, but that didn't stop him from being attracted to her. After all, he was _only_ five years older than she was; hell, his dad was ten years older than his mom. He noted that sometimes a beautiful, patrician-looking girl would come into the shop and Trixie would leave with her. Honey… Honey Wheeler. Yes, of _those _Wheelers.

Sleepyside was not the sleepy little dead-end town he feared. There was a lot happening here; lots of interesting people, and one he especially wanted to get to know better. Trixie didn't appear to have a boyfriend, and he wondered about that.

Max also wondered what those soft, pink lips would taste like.

Honey and Trixie were both free on the same night for once. They were seated in Wimpy's, enjoying a shake, burger and fries. Next was the latest rom-com at the Cameo, a real girls' night out. Something they hadn't had in _quite_ a while.

"So, Trix, how goes it at Brewed Awakenings? My dad swears by their coffee." Honey smiled across at her best friend. She couldn't wait for this summer to be over. The last few weeks all the guys and Diana would be home. She truly missed everyone.

Trixie cupped her chin as she leaned her elbow on the table. "Busy, busy, busy, busy! I think everyone in Sleepyside has developed a serious coffee addiction!"

"Well, the coffee _is _to die for!"

"I've missed everyone this summer, Honey." In one of her lightning changes of mood, Trixie looked troubled. "With our jobs, and Diana gone, we hardly spend any time together at all."

Honey frowned as she sipped her shake. "Yeah. I know what you mean. Regan has been complaining no-one is riding the horses, and we do ride when we can. I miss the guys so much." One in particular, but she didn't bother to tell his sister that. She didn't have to. They were both in the same situation.

"Working with my dad is good business experience for when we open the agency, but the nine-to-five corporate world is not for me." She shuddered delicately. "And in my father's case, more like six am to midnight."

Trixie giggled at Honey's woebegone face. "Well, how else is Wheeler/Hart International LLC going to challenge Walmart for world domination?" She arched her sandy brows, and both girls collapsed in giggles.

Mike looked up from the counter with a smile. He missed that, this summer. All seven of them coming in, laughing and talking. He knew Trixie was working at the coffee shop, but honestly, the diner wasn't open that early in the morning nor was he seeing a significant drop in business. All the kids still came here, and no-one could compare his juicy burgers with an almond biscotti.

"I missed this, Trix. Missed you. So, tell me all about the beautiful Max. I heard some women at the train station swooning over him." Honey touched a napkin to her streaming eyes.

"Ah, Max." Trixie shrugged. "I guess, he's okay, if you like the tall, dark, devastatingly handsome Italian look."

"Oh, I do," Honey confessed, thinking one of tall, dark man working upstate.

"Well, I know _that_, silly. He is a good boss. He always tries to work around everyone's schedules. If one of the moms who works there has a day-care issue or the child is sick, Max always finds a way to accommodate them."

"I noticed he always seems to be around you," Honey teased. She worried about it, just a little. Max was _years _older than Trixie, a college graduate. Trixie's conversation, once peppered with _'Jim said this_' or _'Jim said that'_ was now filled with what Max said.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "He's always around everybody. He doesn't spend a lot of time back in the office. He's out there in the trenches."

Honey wisely kept her counsel. Trixie would never believer her, not in a million years.

Honey wasn't the only one noticing Trixie was talking an awful lot about Max. Jim was noticing, too. For the first time since he met a pair of bluer-than-blue eyes in his uncle's mansion, he kind of understood where Trixie was coming from when she felt insecure about his friendly feelings toward Dot Murray and Laura Ramsay. He pooh-poohed her concerns then, waving her little bouts of jealousy away as unfounded.

Now it was _Trixie_ admiring some other guy; _Trixie_ talking about how accomplished he was; _Trixie _spending time with him. Without Jim.

And he was jealous. Oh yeah, the old green-eyed monster bit into him with long, curving fangs that he just could not shake loose. The guy was way older than Trixie. _(She's seventeen you're almost nineteen and he's barely twenty-two. Not that much difference, James.)_

Jim lay back on his uncomfortable cot. They just didn't make them for 6'4" husky guys. He stared at the darkened ceiling, hearing the giggles emanating from the open windows of the other cabins. _I'll have to get on the junior counselors about that and what if this Max guy is taking advantage of my special girl? _

He tormented himself with images of the curly-headed blonde in the arms of some faceless, nebulous guy. Kissing him. Allowing him to tug on her curls, touch her succulent flesh. Jim groaned and rolled over. At this point, he'd _never _get any sleep.

_Why, oh, why did I have to go and work upstate?_ _I could have stayed right there in Sleepyside and worked with dad, or got a job at the day camps the Sleepyside Recreation Program ran during the summer. But noooooo, I had to leave her all alone. Trixie wasn't a young, naïve little girl any longer._

She was seventeen and ripe, and he should be the one enjoying all those firsts with her. He surely waited long enough.

Sighing again, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep.

It was a half hour before Brewed Awakenings opened, and Trixie had the early morning shift. After she and Missy got the store in order, she sat at one of the cute café tables with a bracing cup of coffee.

Max came out of the back and slid the tray of croissants into the bakery goods case, and decided _he _needed a little break, too. "Hey, Trix," he greeted her warmly as he slid into the other seat. "Why so pensive?"

She was just staring into her cup, her mind a jumble of disconnected thoughts. She missed the others; she _really_ missed Jim; she wondered if it would be busy today and she had an idea for the store. She looked up into Max's ice-blue eyes, so unusual with his dark hair and brows, and smiled.

"Oh, just thoughts about how the summer is slipping away. Pretty soon I'll be back at school, slaving over my senior year." She paused. "I have sort of an idea for a fundraiser for the store, if you want to hear it," she added shyly.

"I'm all ears."

"Fourth of July is coming soon. I know you aren't from here. The town usually has a big, all-day event. Rides, music, games, food vendors. It all culminates with a huge fireworks show at night. It's a real family event."

"Sounds like fun. But we're only open to six on the fourth," he reminded her.

"I know. But I thought since almost everyone's in town anyway, we could hold a fundraiser for the art and music departments of Sleepyside High."

She rushed on. "You know, one of those things where a portion of every purchase is donated to the programs at the schools. Those type of programs are getting harder and harder to fund. We can print up flyers and…"

Max held up a hand, laughing, to stem the flood of words. He was riveted by the way her long curls bounced around her pretty face catching the light; the sparkle in those sapphire eyes, and the energy and enthusiasm she radiated. "Whoa, there, Trixie. A fundraiser for Sleepyside High, hmmm?" He thought a few moments.

It was a good idea. He'd have to clear it with Corporate, of course, but the chain had done similar fundraisers in the past for local schools, hospitals and various charities. "10% of each purchase," he murmured. "That's a great idea, Trixie. We should have a lot of foot traffic that day. I'll clear it with Corporate."

"I have an artist friend who can whip up the design for the flyers if you want. I'm sure he'd do it for free!" Nick Roberts would only be too happy to help.

"That would be fantastic, Trix. I'm going to send a fax over to the main office right now. We should have an answer in a few hours. You really are something else." His ice-blue eyes were filled with warmth.

Trixie blushed to the roots of her hair. "Nah, just somebody who cares," she disagreed. But his words buoyed her spirits and made the rest of the day fly by, especially when they got the go-ahead from Corporate.

Nick Roberts stopped by when Trixie was getting off of work, half-hoping she'd ask him out after receiving her text. "Hey, Trix. I'm here." He slid into an unoccupied table to wait until her shift ended.

"Hey, Nick. Be right there." She flashed a quick smile at him, and he felt the power of it right down to his toes. But he didn't get his hopes up. Trixie and Jim were circling each other for years. And being a male, he had the distinct feeling that Mr. Frayne was biding his time until Trixie turned legal.

Trixie was waiting for Jim. Just about everyone knew it, except the pretty lady in question.

She sank into the chair across from him, her china-blue eyes sparkling with the joy she found in everyday life and just a glint of mischief. He searched them, looking for something he did not find, and gave a tiny, inward sigh.

"Gleeps, Nick! I'm glad to sit down. It was so busy today!" He smiled at her, doubting the veracity of that statement. She was almost vibrating with energy. If only he could bottle it, he'd give Red Bull a run for their money.

"Yeah, this place sure became popular in just a short while. What can I do for you, Trixie?"

She bit her lower lip, before launching into excited conversation, complete with waving hands and that devastating smile. "Well, you might not know that the parent corporation of Brewed Awakenings is very socially conscious. They encourage the various stores to get involved in the local community. I had an idea for a fundraiser, and it was accepted!"

Nick leaned forward, and cupped his chin. "Congratulations! What kind of fundraiser?"

"We're open until six on the Fourth of July. Ten percent of each item sold will be donated to Sleepyside Junior-Senior High's art and music departments, to be used at their discretion! I was wondering if you can design a flyer we can get printed up to let people know. You know the art and music department lost a lot of funding last year," she added, frowning.

"That's a wonderful idea, Trixie," Nick's voice was warm. "We did lose a lot of funding. It seems the powers-that-be are more interested in making sure the test scores are high, not in letting kids become well-rounded adults. I'd be happy to design the fliers. I'll even get my dad to print them up for you, free." His artistic, creative mind was already busy with numerous ideas. "Let me sketch a few things out and I'll bring them to you, oh, tomorrow or the next day."

"You'll have to get Max's approval," she said. "He's the general manager here. A real nice guy, too."

"Okay, just let him know I'll be by in the next day or two." His fingers were itching to grab a pencil. "Thanks, Trixie." He wondered if Jane Morgan would like to collaborate. She certainly had a way with words.

Trixie surprised him by giving him a tiny peck on the cheek, causing a dark olive blush to stain his cheeks. "Thanks, Nick, for being such a sport about it."

Max came out of the back, just then. He saw Trixie go up on tiptoes and kiss a dark, handsome man's cheek, and felt a large pit open up in the vicinity of his stomach. Was this her _boyfriend?_

He watched as Nick left and Trixie turned around, fishing out her car keys. "Oh. Hi, Max. You just missed meeting Nick. He's a wonderful artist and a great friend. He agreed to do the flyers for the fundraiser. He's gonna bring by sketches in the next day or two." Her words came out in a rush as the searched Max's face.

He had the most peculiar expression that lightened and brightened with her speech. _So it wasn't a boyfriend-slash-girlfriend thing._

"Sorry I missed him," Max grinned.

"Well, I'm off shift. I'll see you tomorrow! Bye, Missy! Bye, Jonas!" With a pat on the head for Catpuccino, Trixie was out of the door before anyone had a chance to reply.

Jim had a half-day off between sessions. Not that there was anything much to do up there in the wilderness. But it was nice not to have to referee and herd kids and inexperienced junior counselors. He went to sit in his Jeep, where he had some privacy, and called his sister.

"Hey, Honey," he greeted her.

"Jim! Oh my God, it's so lovely to hear your voice instead of texting and emailing. How's camp this year?" Honey couldn't believe how much she missed her full-blooded adopted brother. She usually had Trixie and Diana to keep her occupied, but this year was particularly difficult.

He sighed. "This is my _last_ year doing this." His voice was firm. "All the administration and running around… and I miss everyone. Sleepyside is home, and I need to be there." He didn't mention the person he missed most of all, but Honey wasn't a dummy. She knew how to read between the lines.

"Have you spoken to Trixie lately? You know she's working a lot at the new coffee shop in town."

"Just texts and emails. How is she doing?" The unspoken question was there. _And is she doing anyone?_

"She's the star of the show. You know our Trix," Honey laughed. "I think her boss thinks the sun rises and sets in her."

Jim feigned innocence. "Oh, that Max guy she mentions every once in a while? He probably appreciates all the help a young, energetic girl can give him." _Yup. That was definitely it. Probably some paunchy, middle-aged guy._

"Ummm. Jim? I hate to burst your little bubble, but Max is a hot, young Italian stud who apparently has a not-so-secret crush on Trixie. He's only a few years older than you."

The acid began to churn in Jim's stomach. "How do you know that?" His long fingers, so strong but gentle, were clenched around the cell phone.

"I was talking to a couple of the others that work in the store and I do go in there occasionally, you know. He's almost _always_ around her. And," she whispered as if imparting a state secret. "And he looks at her all moony-like."

Jim uttered an expletive that shocked Honey. "Why, Jim! I have never, ever heard you say that word before."

Jim blushed hotly, and offered a weak apology. "Sorry, sis. Uh, how… how does _Trixie_ feel about all this?" Geez, he had it bad. But he didn't care how pathetic he sounded. He wanted, no _needed_, to know how Trixie felt about her smarmy older boss.

Honey trilled out a soft laugh. "Jim. This is _Trixie_ we're talking about. I don't think she notices at all. You know she's still stuck on that short, sturdy image she had of herself. Even if half the guys at school would simply _die_ to take her out."

Jim expelled a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Ah…. How are you, Honey? Is Dad working you hard enough?" He revealed enough about his feelings; now to change the subject.

They spoke for a few more minutes, commiserating with each other over the loss of childhood freedom. As soon as they hung up with a "Love you!" he hit the speed dial for Trixie's cell phone. He needed to hear her voice.

_TMWBITW_. It popped up on her phone. Oh, she could have entered the more prosaic _Jim_. He would always be the most wonderful boy in the world to her, even when they were ninety years old.

"Hi, Jim!" Happiness washed over her, rang out in her voice.

Jim just could not contain his speech. What was supposed to come out was a simple hi to his special girl. The moment he heard her sexy/raspy voice, all rational thought deserted his logical brain. "Trixie, baby."

She pulled the phone away from her ear, unsure that she had heard correctly. "I'm so glad you called. I've missed you, and uh, all the others."

"I've missed you, too." He settled down in the car seat. "How's everything at Crabapple Farm? How's the job going?" _Are you dating your boss? Anyone else? Won't you please wait for me?_

She laughed. "Oh, the farm is the farm. Bobby is enrolled at day camp this year, so he's out of Moms' hair for the most part. I'm sure he, Larry and Terry are terrorizing the counselors. Work is great! I love my job, and we're running a fundraiser for the art and music departments at the high school. Max got the clearance from Corporate, and Nick is doing the flyers for free." She ran out of breath.

"That's, that's wonderful, Trixie." His voice was even but inside he was groaning. Max again. And Nick Roberts. He knew the artist had a little crush on her. _Great. Just great._

"How's everything at camp, Jim?"

"Uh, it's okay." He expelled a breath. "I don't think I am going to work upstate next summer." Jim did not mean to blurt that out. _What was wrong with his runaway mouth?_

Trixie was again surprised by Jim's words, and just a little bit thrilled. "Why not, Jim? I thought you were doing this in preparation for opening your school someday."

Jim drummed the fingers of his free hand on this muscular thigh. "Yeah, well, I thought so, too. But I'm finding I need to get back home, to be with all of you." _Especially you, Trix._

"I know what you mean. This summer seems so long, when before they flew away in an eye blink. I hardly ever see Honey because she stays a lot in the City and of course Di is in Arizona. I did make some new friends at the shop, and a bunch of us are going to the Elysium in White Plains next Friday night to see a midnight showing of _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_. It sounds like fun. Max is trying to get me to dress up as Janet. But I don't think I'd like to go to the movies in a bra and slip!" She Googled images of the movie and was a bit shocked at some of the stills.

Jim immediately pictured his Trixie as Janet. He was well aware of the killer curves she developed, and his blood pressure began to rise. _Oh yeah_. He'd love to see her dress up as Janet, too, but only for a _private_ screening of the movie.

A private screening that consisted of just the two of them, and they wouldn't be paying any attention at all to the action unfolding on the screen.

There was no way in hell that Max should see her like that. No way at all. "I agree with you, Trix. If you want to dress up as Janet, why not a cute dress like she wore in the beginning of the movie and a sweater or something?" Preferably a burqa that covered her from head to foot, with only those amazing eyes showing.

"Why, Jim? Don't you think I'd look good in a bra and slip?" she demanded, contrary.

_Crap. Now what to say?_ "You'd look great in anything, baby, but I know how uncomfortable you would feel."

_There it was again. Baby_. "You're right, Jim," she conceded. "It's much different when we're at the lake swimming and horsing around, even if a bikini is like a bra."

"Uhhhh." She was wearing a _bikini _at the lake now? And he wasn't home to see her in all her glory? On second thought, maybe it was better he wasn't there.

His impulses were not at all honorable. Not one iota.

"Well, have a great time. Who all is going?"

"Me. Max of course, Lindsay McGregor, Jon Waters, Didi Connor and Mike Lewis and Gunnar from school. One of the other women might join us too, but it depends if she can get a sitter."

"Trix, I…" he never finished what he was going to say. The bell started ringing, calling all the counselors back to the main building… which meant the arrival of the next group of kids was imminent. "I have to go," he ended lamely.

"So soon?" she lamented. "Okay, well then… bye, Jim. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Trixie, baby." There was so much more he wanted to say, but things like that would have to wait until August. When he could look into those fabulous eyes of hers and lay out everything.

_If she didn't elope with that cradle-snatcher._ That dark little voice clawed at his lacerated feelings.

He resolutely shut it down, jumped out of the car, pasting on a smile and trying for an attitude adjustment. The kids deserved nothing less.

_Baby. Trixie baby_. Jim's deep voice and those words kept rolling around in her head all day. For the first time, she was quite distracted at work, and even Max remarked she didn't seem like her usual bright self. Was something wrong?

She assured him nothing was amiss, but noticed he kept giving her concerned looks all day long. She couldn't wait to escape home and away from prying eyes. Trixie wanted to turn over those words again and again.

Moms noticed she was pushing around the food on her plate while Bobby was inhaling his. "Trixie, honey, aren't you hungry? You're not getting sick or anything, are you?" She stood and in the time-honored tradition of moms everywhere, laid her cool hand on her daughter's brow.

"You aren't taking on too much at your job, are you?" Peter knew Trixie's propensity for taking on far too much responsibility and getting overly involved in activities.

"I'm okay, honest." Trixie rolled her eyes. "I'm just not too hungry today, Moms."

Helen sat back down. "Your forehead is cool. Trixie, I hope you're not filling up with coffee and junk food at the shop. That's not good for you."

"No, I'm not Moms. I guess I'm just having an off day. Is it okay if I am excused?" It was Bobby's turn to do the dishes, such as they were. With only the four of them home, and sometimes only three when Trixie had a late shift, Helen had taken to using paper plates and plastic cutlery.

Brian and Mart would be shocked. They would be even more shocked to learn that their dad recently ordered a state-of-the-art dishwasher for their pretty mother. It was about time Crabapple Farm began to modernize a little.

Moms nodded her agreement and Trixie tore off to her bedroom. "Do we need to be concerned?" Peter raised his eyebrows.

"I don't think so," Helen smiled back with a sidelong glance at Bobby. "Just growing pains, I think." She gave her husband a look that promised a more thorough discussion later, when little ears weren't eavesdropping.

Trixie sat on the window seat in her bedroom, staring up the hill at the barely visible lights of Manor House. Honey was in New York City with her parents, and the only people in residence were Regan, Miss Trask, Celia and Tom. She really missed her best friend and her… what? What exactly was Jim Frayne to her? And what exactly did he mean by calling her _baby _today?

Her hand went to a blonde curl, his curl. The one he always tugged with that special light in his eyes. She wanted to believe that intense look was reserved just for her. She saw Brian giving Honey the same look at times; Mart always looked at Diana as if she was his favorite dessert.

What was _with_ Jim and Brian, anyway? They never spoke of going out with girls at college. Mostly, they either studied or talked about going places with a group of friends, much like she was doing now. Besides, neither she nor Honey wanted to hear of any conquests they made with girls their own age.

It really _sucked_ to be younger sometimes.

At least Mart manned up and finally asked Diana out the moment she turned fifteen. They were together ever since, and Trixie had to tamp down feelings of jealousy. She slid off the comfortable cushions and padded over to her small jewelry box, taking out the shiny, dainty bracelet with JIM in fancy script on the tablet.

_His special girl_. Was she _still _his special girl? She ran a slender finger over the engraving, and placed it back in the cranberry-colored velvet. Her hand went automatically to the locket she wore every day, the one with his picture secreted within.

_Trixie, baby_. It echoed in her head. 3 at the end of every text and email. She saw the heart dancing before her eyes.

Was Jim trying to tell her something, or was she just reading too much into his words and a simple sign-off? Her best detective-ing instincts were failing her now.

As if they ever served her well where _Jim_ was concerned.

The week marched toward Friday, and that meant Friday night. Although he was busy, Jim couldn't stop his thoughts from turning towards the hot blonde in the hollow. Friday night, midnight. A darkened movie theatre showing a campy cult classic.

His girl in a bra and slip. Jim knew she said she wasn't going to wear that, but his active imagination went there anyway. She'd jump in with enthusiasm her eyes sparkling and he could hear her throaty laugh.

_Damn_.

They were going to have to cart him off to the asylum. Yup. Men in little white coats would take him away.

He considered calling Max and warning him away, but logic prevailed. What good would _that_ do? He had no proof the older man had a romantic interest in Trixie. Just a gut feeling. Plus, he told himself, he was sure Trixie's parents would be aghast at someone so much older trying to date their Princess.

Hell, Peter Belden made sure he took Jim aside after the whole bracelet thing and gently let him know they both considered their daughter way too young for dating. They had lots of time to pursue a relationship when Trixie was older, if they decided to do so.

Well, now he decided to do so.

When Friday finally came, Jim was sitting in the mess hall with the other senior counselors and adult supervisors. One of them looked down at Jim's raw hands, and saw the knuckles were red and scraped, almost bruised.

"What happed to your hands, Frayne?" he joked. "Hit a tree?"

Jim gave him an icy green, level look. "No. Worked out in the gym this morning." He flexed his hands, and the subject was dropped.

Something was bothering Jim Frayne enough for him to whale on the punching bag hard enough to cut his knuckles, and by Jim's closed expression, he did not want to discuss it.

Trixie stared at herself in her mirror. After digging awhile in the attic, she unearthed a shirtwaist dress in blush pink. It had white buttons down front and short sleeves. In another trunk was a thin white cardigan with a pearl chain clip at the neckline. She discovered a vintage straw hat with a bunch of daisies on one side. Moms supplied her with white gloves.

She giggled at the picture she presented. The dress was a bit snug across the chest area, but otherwise looked great. She walked carefully downstairs, showing off to her mother and father, who were waiting in the living room.

"You look like the pictures I saw of my mother when she was young," Helen smiled.

"Someone is picking you up, right, Trix? I don't want you driving all the way to White Plains by yourself." Peter, for once, wished Jim was there.

"Yes, Daddy. Max is picking me up and Lindsay and Mike, I think. I know we'll have so much fun!"

"Right home after the movie," Peter grumped. He didn't like this, a midnight showing in another town, with people he didn't know.

"I promise." In truth, she really wished she was going with the BWGs. She opened her mouth to say so, but there was a knock at the front door. Helen returned with Max, in full Brad-nerd regalia. Both the Beldens laughed and took a picture.

"Remember young lady," Peter warned, in front of Max. "Home directly after the movie."

Trixie rolled her eyes again. "I remember, Daddy!" Gleeps! He didn't have to embarrass her in front of her boss and all! Helen followed them to the door and watched as they drove away. Her Moms senses were going off, big time.

_It couldn't be, could it? Max was older than Trixie, by at least five years. But the way he looked at her… no, it simply couldn't be._ In a move reminiscent of her daughter, Helen began to chew her lower lip. _I wish Jim was home. I wish they were _all_ home_.

"C'mon, Mrs. Belden, our bed awaits." Peter was tired after a long day at work, but he was only fooling himself, He knew he wouldn't get a lick of sleep until he heard Trixie come in.

She nodded at her husband but didn't voice the thoughts that startled her. She had a sneaking suspicion if she did, her husband would be out chasing down Max and pull Trixie out of the car.

And boy, would their daughter be angry.

Trixie was taken aback when Max helped her into his SUV. His _empty_ SUV.

"I thought Lindsay and Mike were coming, too." She glanced around the empty back seat as if she expected them to be hiding back there.

"Mike decided to take his own car, and Lindsay is going with him," Max explained as he started the car. He glanced over at her pretty profile. She looked… delectable. Young and innocent, just like Janet was in the beginning of the movie.

"Oh. That's nice." However, she moved a little closer to the door. He was dressed as Brad and she as Janet, and… it almost seemed like they were a couple. But he was her _boss_, and she didn't like him in _that_ way.

_Oh, be serious, Trix! He's a college graduate and you're just in high school! Max is just a nice guy giving you a ride to the movie. Like he'd really be interested in _you.

"Your friends Nick and Janet did a great job on the flyers," Max told her. "They're up all over town!"

_Ok. Safe subject_. "Yes, they did. I think we're going to have an amazing Fourth." July was just about her favorite month. Jim's birthday and the anniversary of when they met. For a moment she was back in that decrepit mansion, sapphire meeting emerald.

In that one instant, her whole world had changed.

"… Corporate and they are going to contact him directly." She was back in the car and missed whatever Max had been saying.

She blushed to the roots of her yellow hair. "I'm sorry, Max, I was woolgathering for a second. What were you saying?"

"I was just saying that Corporate was _very_ impressed with Nick. They want to contact him directly to discuss the possibility of him doing other work for the company."

"Oh, he'd love that! He really is a talented artist."

"I'd have to agree." He smiled, thinking how utterly adorable she was, but still wishing she was in that bra and slip. "Is this your first time seeing _Rocky Horror?"_

Trixie relaxed a little more. "Yes. My older brothers and our friends Jim and Dan went last year. They said it was a hoot. They didn't dress up, though."

She didn't have any trouble imagining Jim in a nice pair of boxers, with all those lovely muscles exposed.

_Yum_.

Trixie and Max talked all the way to White Plains about ordinary things, work and school. She began to laugh at herself, thinking Max could _ever_ see her as anything more than a co-worker and friend. Soon, they were joining the others outside the theatre. Everyone was dressed up, some hilariously so, and Max dragged out a shopping bag full to the brim.

"What's that for?" Trixie asked as they were entering the theatre. "Did you bring snacks?"

Max just smiled. "You'll see."

Jim stared at his glow-in-the-dark watch again. _Midnight._ The witching hour. The selfsame hour where, right now in White Plains, Trixie was meeting up with a bunch of co-workers to watch a campy, fun, cult classic.

And of course, Max would be there. Her boss.

The man who looked at her all moony-like.

_Damn_ it.

He punched his pillow and flipped over again. The cot hadn't gotten any more comfortable. His knuckles still hurt from the beating he was giving the bag in the gym. His imagination was working overtime, picturing his special girl… yes _his_, and no-one else's, with another man. Maybe holding hands. Laughing together.

Maybe Max would look into those deep blue, sparkling eyes and lean over to taste those luscious lips. Run his hands through her curls. Tug on one, the one that belonged to him.

He sat up abruptly, burying his face in his hands He was going to drive himself crazy if he didn't get a grip. The only thing that was keeping him sane right now, keeping him from just jumping in his car and driving all the way home, was the knowledge that she wasn't alone with Max.

Because if she was, it just would not bode well for Max's continued good health.


	2. Chapter 2

The movie was a blast; the audience fun and participatory and Trixie enjoyed herself immensely. She hadn't laughed so much in a very long time; it only underlined for her how much she missed the BWGs.

As the group exited, everyone wanted the fun to continue. "Let's go to the Starlite Diner," Mike suggested. "We can have breakfast and then head home."

"Sorry guys," Max said. "Trixie needs to get home; I promised her parents. And I do have work tomorrow. See ya, and drive safely."

He ushered Trixie into his car after a chorus of goodbyes. "That was fun," she told him, slumping against the passenger door. She would love to go back with her bevy someday.

"You see something different every time you go," he agreed. He concentrated on exiting the parking lot and getting onto the road back to Sleepyside. Once he was in his comfort zone, he turned to glance at the pretty blonde in the seat next to him.

She was sound asleep.

He had to snort out a laugh. So much for being Mr. Suave and Sophisticated. On the other hand, she was relaxed enough to doze off and that was a good thing, right? He risked another glance at her and wished he could wake up to her dreamy face every morning for the rest of his life.

She was _so_ young, though. Not even out of high school. He was positive she didn't see him in the same light he was seeing her. Why should she? It really wasn't ethical for him to date an employee, especially an underling.

He wondered if she would continue to work at the shop when school began. Max knew a little more about her than he was letting on. Her propensity for solving mysteries; for getting involved in things… and the funny-named bunch of people she hung around with most of the time.

He couldn't appear too interested in her; that would set off the small-town gossips big time. But there was a lot of information to be gleaned just from being a good listener.

Max was an _excellent_ listener.

He tried time and again to talk himself out of the infatuation he had for Trixie. He even went so far as to join a dating site. _Wrong,_ on so many levels. The women out there who responded to his profile… well, they couldn't hold a candle to the pretty blonde sleeping peacefully in his SUV. They were either too forward, too coy, or prospecting for a rich husband.

Or at least a guy with a job.

Before long they were pulling up into the long driveway that led to her family's charming farmhouse. Sighing again, he reached over and gently shook her awake. "Trixie? We're at your house."

She mumbled something that sounded like gym, before he blue eyes opened, all misty and soft. Max was seized by an almost uncontrollable impulse to lean over and capture those soft lips; however, he could see the faint light shining upstairs.

He didn't think her parents would like him pawing at their daughter.

"Oh! Max!" Trixie blushed hotly. _What must he think of her?_ "I'm so sorry."

"No problem, Trix. I was happy you felt safe enough with me to doze off."

She had to laugh. "_Sure_ you were. Thanks for the ride. The show was fun. I better get in." She stared into his blue eyes that were warming with something she couldn't understand. "No need to see me out." She opened the door and slid out of the seat, poking her head back into the vehicle.

"Thanks again. I'm sure you would have rather gotten breakfast at the Starlite with the others," she said ruefully.

She clicked the door closed, and with a wave, disappeared into the back door. Max waited for a moment, until a light went on in the house, before he backed down the driveway.

"That's where you're wrong, Trixie," he muttered. "I'd much rather spend time with _you."_

Brewed Awakenings was supposed to close at six on the Fourth, but the long line extended the hour until nearly seven. It seemed everyone in town turned out to support the fundraiser for Sleepyside High's arts programs, and the empty shelves just proved it. Max locked the front door with an exhausted sigh.

Trixie danced around the café with her inexhaustible energy, beaming. They also set a jar on the counter for donations in case anyone cared to make one, and it was stuffed full of green paper and change.

"I'd say we have a roaring success on our hands," she sang out, as the others in the store groaned. They still had to clean up and restock the shelves before Max would set them free to join the rest of the town in celebration of the holiday.

"I'm going to put the donations in the safe, with the rest of the sales." The bank wasn't open today, so first thing tomorrow he would be making a deposit. "We'll figure out the amount of the check we'll present to the school tomorrow." There would be a formal presentation, with Max handing over a large ceremonial check to the Superintendent of Schools.

The rest of the crew busied themselves straightening out the decimated store. Catpuccino was meowing for his supper… it was much too busy today for the patrons to sneak him a piece of biscuit or croissant.

A half-hour later, the store was gleaming again, and Max followed his workers out. They had changed into fresh clothes suited for the festivities and were chattering gaily. He set the alarm and looked across at town square, just filled to the brim with happy families partaking of the fun. Red, white and blue was everywhere, from the buntings on the storefronts to babies swaddled in summer blankets.

Music filled the square, not just from the rides, but from the band playing at the bandstand and later on a DJ would spell them for a while. Couples were dancing on the floor laid just for this occasion, and vendors were hawking everything from soft custard to funnel cake to memorial t-shirts.

There really wasn't _anything_ like a celebration of the Fourth in small-town America.

Most of the employees scattered to find their families at pre-arranged spots. Trixie was staring at her telephone, with the most peculiar expression on her pretty face.

"Something wrong, Trix?" Max was concerned. He'd never seen that expression on her before.

Trixie barely heard him. The text message was almost… well, it almost made her feel as if she was existing in some sort of alternate universe. It was from Jim, of course.

_Hi baby. I hope the fundraiser was a success. Wish I was there with you to celebrate. Have a good time in town, but not too good! Miss you._ 3

She tapped out her response, still reeling. _Baby._ He had taken to calling her baby, or Trixie baby. And his texts and emails were getting more and more… she grasped at a word, almost wishing Mart was there. _Intimate_. That was it. More and more _intimate_. Like… like he was her boyfriend or something.

_Hi Jim, fundraiser was a huge success! _Okay, here goes nothing. _Miss you, too, and I wish you were here. Only a few more weeks! _3

Max touched her arm as she hit send. "Trix? Is anything wrong?"

She looked up at him, startled. Oh boy, she had totally forgotten he was there. "Noooo." Her voice was slow, her eyes a sort of deep, misty blue. "Just missing all my friends right now."

"I know what you mean," Max commiserated. "I miss my family. All my brothers and my sister are home for the Fourth, and we have a big barbeque and go see the town fireworks. This is the first year I'm missing it."

Trixie's soft heart immediately melted. She hadn't really thought too much about Max's background, or the fact he might be missing _his_ family. "Do they live too far away to make a visit?"

"A little town outside of Seattle, Washington. All the way cross country."

"Now I can tell how you got your fascination with coffee." She smiled at him, that thousand-megawatt smile, and he felt his toes curl.

"Yes, it's an avocation out there."

"You can come with me. I'm going to join my family and Honey's, the Lynches with the twins and some of the Wheelers' staff. Regan, the groom, Miss Trask who manages the estate, and the chauffeur and maid, Tom and Celia Delanoy."

Max raised his eyebrows. "The Wheelers party with their _help?"_ The mega-wealthy Wheelers who graced the society pages and business news almost every day?

Trixie laughed. "They're not like that, Max. They moved out here so Honey could have a normal life. They were a little bit stuffy when they first got here, but now they're enjoying small town life and all the extended friendships and family that means. The Lynches were very poor until Mr. Lynch's invention took off and the money began pouring in."

Max shrugged. "If you say so." They began to walk toward the expansive lawn that compromised town square. He noticed she didn't say anything about the text message she received, and he couldn't help being curious.

He opened his mouth to ask her again, when a loud whistle pierced the background noise. To his surprise, Trixie laughed and whistled back.

"They're over this way."

"What on earth was that?" Damn, his ears were still ringing.

"It's our club whistle. A bob-white. It's come in handy at times, let me tell you."

As they made their way over to the piece of lawn the Belden-Wheelers-Lynches had staked out, Honey's brows rose. _Max._ Following Trixie like a little puppy.

Rats. Jim was not going to like this at all.

There were several large camps surrounding the large lake in upstate New York. They pooled their resources on the Fourth and had a pretty decent fireworks show for the kids. The company that ran the show set up the canisters out on the lake and if it was too dry, they would cancel. Even being in the middle of the lake could allow a drifting ember to start a wildfire.

But it was lush and green this year. The happy campers gorged on hot dogs, hamburgers and cotton candy waiting for the sparkles in the sky to begin. Jim escorted a couple of the boys to the infirmary with tummy-aches, relaxing while the nurse checked them out.

Janine Vered, one of the owners, was in the infirmary just in case anyone needed a little more than first aid for a boo-boo tummy. She smiled at Jim, and took the opportunity to speak privately with him. "Hey, Jim, more tummy troubles?"

Jim smiled back. "A few. They don't seem to know when to quit eating."

Janine sat across from the tall, handsome redhead and searched his face. He'd been working at the camp for a couple of years, but not all summer. He was a good counselor, really interested in the kids. He was still giving one hundred percent, but she noticed his distraction at times.

"Jim, can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Sure."

"I can't help but think you aren't having a good time this season. Now, you're doing an excellent job with the boys, but I don't think your heart is in it this year."

He gave a short, sarcastic laugh. "I didn't think it was that apparent," he confessed.

"Maybe not to the others, but we've worked together. Is something here bothering you? Can I help in any way?"

He scrubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "No, everything here is just perfect. Perfectly perfect." His face flooded with color when he realized he used Honey's and Trixie's pet phrase.

Janine's lips tilted up at the corners. "You're missing her, aren't you?" When Jim began to bluster, the woman held up a work-roughened hand. "I can always tell." Her faded eyes twinkled at him.

"Yeah. I am." He pressed a palm to his eye to stave off the headache that was brewing. "She's… she's very special."

Janine leaned over and patted his hand. "If she loves you, she'll wait. You won't be back next year, will you?" She knew it, deep inside.

"No, I won't," Jim admitted. "I've loved my time here."

"But you love _her_ more. Believe me, I understand, Jim."

He smiled at her, that devastating lopsided grin that melted women's hearts.

"Next year at this time, I hope to be a married man," he confided. "I know people will say we're too young, but I've loved her since I was fifteen and nothing is going to change that. _Ever_."

"She's a very lucky woman." Two of Jim's charges walked out of the infirmary, still a bit green around the gills. Mary, the nurse followed, tsk-tsking at their folly.

"Mr. Jim, I think Jamal and Artie here need to go back to the cabin and sleep it off." A chorus of dissent and not a few tears followed, but Jim held up a hand.

"Thanks, Nurse Mary. Come on, boys. If you're good, we'll watch the fireworks from the stoop at the cabin."

They walked back through the balmy night, and he got them settled on the steps just as the fireworks started. He hadn't read the message from Trixie, and while the boys were engaged in oohing and aahing, he sneaked a peak at his phone.

The message did much to repair his dented heart. She missed him, and was counting the days until he returned.

Well, so was he.

Trixie bolted upright in bed. _What a brilliant idea!_ The fireworks were gorgeous, and her extended family welcomed Max into their fold, even if Honey kept giving her strange looks. She needed to talk to her best friend about _that._

Her mind was not on the display in the sky. Jim's birthday was in a few days. She wanted to do something for him besides send him best wishes. She was fretting about, it trying to come up with something unique that she could do from afar.

It was still bothering her when she went to bed; her subconscious mind was chewing on it while she slept. And, Eureka! A great idea.

She glanced at her clock. Four AM. Well, it was a little early to set her plan in motion, so she settled back in her bed, grinning.

All she needed to do was set the ball rolling… at a more reasonable hour.

Max was also up, prowling around his small apartment over the shop. He missed his family, but was surprised at how quickly he was assimilated into the large group gracing the lawn in town square. Of course, he had met most of them before, but was surprised at the resemblance between Honey Wheeler and her pretty, fragile-looking mother. Ed and Sharon Lynch with their twin boys and twin girls were also there, as was Trixie's younger brother, Bobby.

Rather than gorging on expensive hot dogs or junk food, the families brought delicious homemade fired chicken – enough to feed an army; potato salad and garden salad, as well as several scrumptious cakes and pies. Ice cold watermelon and sweet tea rounded off the meal, and he hadn't felt so stuffed in a very long time.

Trixie was certainly in her element here. Her gorgeous smile flashed often and she and Honey had taken the younger ones for ice cream while he sat with the parents. Max thought it might be awkward, but Miss Trask and Regan put him at ease, questioning him about the west coast. Tom and Celia had excused themselves to go line dancing, and everyone laughed at Tom's two left feet.

Regan leaned over to whisper to him. "He's lucky she puts up with him. He went hunting on their honeymoon!"

Max snorted out a laugh at that. "Is the man crazy?"

Regan rolled his expressive green eyes. "Maybe so," he laughed.

Max really tried to keep his eyes off Trixie. It was difficult though, seeing her in those little shorts and tank top. Honey might be taller and have a sylphlike figure, but he'd take Trixie's curves any day.

He missed his family, and while the job was fulfilling, Max was finding that he needed _more_. The more he needed was centered on the hot blonde with the curly yellow hair. But she was young and he was her boss.

His dilemma could be solved at the end of July. School would be starting in a couple of weeks, and he would no longer be her boss. He would be free to act on his attraction to her. She already told him that she would be leaving then. Trixie's close friends would all be back in Sleepyside, and they were talking about going someplace called Cobbett's Island to reconnect and relax.

He got back into his bed, smiling. Sounded like a plan to him.

Janine Vered's day began very early and ended very late. She was surprised when her telephone rang – she thought she had at least another hour of uninterrupted time before wading into the day. Concerned parents, sick kids; stopped up toilets and ordering supplies all took up a major portion of her day.

"Janine Vered," she almost barked into the phone.

"Ms. Vered? Hi. Sorry to be calling so early. My name is Trixie Belden and I am ah, a friend of Jim Frayne's," Trixie explained nervously.

_Ah ha. Jim's special girl_. "How can I help you, Ms. Belden?"

"Trixie, please. You know it's Jim's birthday in a couple of days, and I wanted to do something special for him. I wonder if you can help me."

"What do you have in mind, Trixie? I'll see if we can accommodate your wishes. Jim is one of our best counselors."

"Okay, this is what I was planning…"

Fifteen minutes later, they disconnected the call, both satisfied with the outcome.

A few days later, just as they were about to leave for the mess hall, an announcement crackled over the camp's PA system. "Cabins 9, 10 and 11 please report immediately to Cabin 21. Repeat, Cabins 9, 10 and 11 please report immediately to Cabin 21."

Jim's head snapped up and he looked sharply at one of his junior counselors. "Any idea what this is about, Ricky?" Cabin 21 was a large, vacant cabin that was usually reserved for troublesome kids that were acting out, other discipline or medical problems and occasional special events.

"None, Jim. I don't think any of our guys got into trouble today." They gathered up the two other cabins and began to trudge back toward 21 instead of front towards mess hall. The kids were moaning and groaning about missing the meal, but no-one fessed up to anything.

The junior counselors led the kids in first, while Jim brought up the rear to corral any stragglers. Once he stepped inside the cabin, his jaw dropped.

An obviously homemade banner proclaimed 'Happy Birthday Mr. Jim!' The cabin was set up with long folding tables and chairs, and there was a stack of pizzas at one end. The kids were buzzing with anticipation and Janine led them in a rousing rendition of the birthday song before she allowed the junior counselors to begin handing out the pizza and juice.

"What's… what's all this?" Jim stammered. They never made a fuss over his birthday before.

Janine handed him an email. "Read this, and you'll understand." Trixie emailed her a letter for Jim, and even though she really, really wanted to read it, she refrained.

_Hi Jim,_

_Happy Birthday! Right now you are probably flushed and wondering what the heck is going on! I wanted to do something special for you for your birthday. But I'm so far away and I was wracking my brain trying to come up with something. Then I had the brilliant idea of a pizza party! I know you must be craving some right now!_

_I conspired with Ms. Vered to order the pizzas from town and get them to you! I hope you had a wonderful day. I wish I was there to celebrate with you. Miss you lots!_

_3_

_Trixie_

Janine watched Jim's long fingers tighten around the note. The green of his eyes deepened to almost emerald, and a soft smile lit his face_. Oh, my. Yup, he had it bad._ And from the way that Trixie spoke about him, well, she wouldn't be surprised at all to see a wedding announcement in the society section.

An almost indescribable happiness washed over Jim. His Trixie was thinking of him. She went through all the trouble to set up this little party for his birthday, just so he would feel special.

And loved.

He felt loved.

He carefully folded the missive and placed it in his pocket, reaching for a slice of pizza. She remembered his fondness for it. That damn boss of hers may have spent Fourth of July mooning around his girl, but he'd bet anything she never bought him pizza.

Less than three weeks to go now. He'd be free to go downstate and really make her his. He just couldn't wait.

_I loved the pizza, baby. Thank you for my birthday surprise. I only wish you were there to share it with me. Be home soon. 3._

Trixie read the text over and over. Something was unfurling within her, something that was rearranging her from a schoolgirl to a woman. She realized it wasn't some silly, adolescent crush she had on the boy next door.

It was something deeper and more meaningful. It was sometimes selfish, but mostly not. It wasn't silly jealousy of another girl. It was learning to let go for the good of another. It wasn't neatly wrapped in a pretty box. It was messy and crazy and full of surprises.

It was sacrifice and heartache, and gleeps, the most glorious sunrise in her soul.

It was _love_.

Brewed Awakenings grew its business over the next several weeks, aided by the publicity in the Sleepyside Sun. There was the obligatory picture of Max handing over quite a large sum to the Superintendent of Schools. A charming story accompanied the photo, explaining the money as earmarked for the arts departments. Max gave credit to Trixie for the idea. In fact, his praise was so effusive at the time, Paul Trent, the reporter, wondered if the man didn't have a crush on his employee.

He shook his head. _Nah._ Nobody would be so stupid as to get involved with that blonde firecracker. Besides, Max LoCascio was much older than the high-school senior.

Corporate was pleased with the success of the fundraiser and the great publicity. Max was marked as a rising star in the cheeky start-up. He was going to do even greater things after his talent was honed in the small store. They were looking at opening the first store in Manhattan, the Holy Grail of the retail food industry, and Max would be the perfect one to run it.

Max tried. He really did try. He went on a few dates, some with the dating service from the Internet, others with cute women he met in when he was out and about. None of them compared to the bubbly blonde that caught his attention almost from the first day.

As the month wore on, however, he noticed she was becoming more and more distracted. Oh, not with the customers, but he caught her staring into space with a small smile on those soft pink lips.

Trixie never spoke of going on dates, or a boyfriend. He heard talk of a Jim Frayne, Honey's adopted brother, but most people dismissed that idea. He was nineteen and a college man now, and if he wanted to date Trixie, why he had all the time in the world to ask her before he left.

And he never did.

He caught her making faces at herself in the plate glass window one morning before the store opened. "Didn't your mama ever tell you your face just might freeze like that?" Without asking, he pulled out another chair and straddled it.

"Probably be an improvement," she laughed. Pointing at her hair, she continued. "With this crazy mop on my head and freckles, even this would be better." She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

Although Max laughed at her early morning antics, a bigger part of him was amazed. She honestly didn't know how beautiful she was. Her hair was like spun gold, the vibrant spirals brushing down past her shoulders. Her eyes were the biggest and bluest, with long lashes framing their charming expressions. She had a pert little nose that snorted ungracefully, Fairy-dusted with light gold freckles on her creamy skin.

Trixie was unique. She had no vanity at all, and that made her all the more attractive. She was just… Trixie.

"Just a couple more weeks and you'll be free," Max wanted to see what she would say. Maybe she'd want to stay, work after school. But then, he wouldn't get to put his grand plan into action.

"Yup! We're all going to Cobbett's Island for two weeks. Honey's family has a beach house out there. Although _house_ is not quite the word I'm looking for. _Mansion_ is more like it. It will be really wonderful to have everyone all together again." _Especially one hot redhead._

_Mmmm. Trixie in a bikini…_ "Sounds like fun. Have you been there before?" _Get your mind out of the gutter, LoCascio._

"Several times. Mr. Wheeler was renting it at first, but he decided to buy it. We usually go there a couple of times a summer, but this year has been unusually busy for all the BWGs." Her pretty lips did a downturn.

"You really miss them, don't you?" Max said gently. What was the strange connection Trixie had with these people?

She flashed her grin. "Oh, gleeps, yes. Even my idiotic brothers, who tease me from morning until night."

"It's in the Brother Rule Book. Number six if I remember correctly," he teased. "And now, senior year."

"Thank heaven! The boys will all be going back to college, and it will be just Diana, Honey and me trying to muddle through."

"Are you going to college? Do you have any idea what you will pursue?"

"Ummm. Yeah." Trixie blushed, a charming rose highlighting her face. "Honey and I are going into law enforcement, with a look towards law school and either opening up our own detective agency someday or becoming prosecutors. We've both been accepted to John Jay in the City, early acceptance." Trixie didn't say anything about the full scholarship she received, in recognition of her unique talent for solving mysteries. Even mysteries of sneaky little cats.

The City. Max mulled that over. There were rumors floating about that the company was about to embark on a flagship Manhattan store, and he was the frontrunner for the position. If that was true, it would dovetail nicely with Trixie's plans to go to college.

Yes, things were certainly looking up. He touched Trixie's hand, so soft and slender. "I hope everything works out for you." His voice rang with sincerity. _And me_. "I'll be in the back if you need me" He gave her a two fingered saluted and sauntered off.

Trixie ran a finger over the skin he touched. Maybe Honey wasn't so far off in assessing the situation. When Honey broached the subject of Max at their last Girls' Night Out, Trixie was quick to pooh-pooh the idea that Max was interested in her. He was older and he was her boss.

Trixie's delicate skin flamed with color. _Ohmigod, what if he was?_ She tried to think back on all the times they were together, but really, he didn't treat her any differently than anyone else. Yet there were those times that his blue eyes flared with something…

Argh! She threw her hands up in the air and went to open the store. Max just saw her as a nice young girl working in his store. She was sure of it.

_Wasn't she?_

The last of the campers was escorted to the bus, sniffling and loudly proclaiming he never, ever wanted to go home. Jim lifted him to the top step of the bright yellow school bus.

"LeVar. I know you had lots of fun here. It was great to have you, and I know you'll be back next year. Believe me when I tell you that you do _not_ want to be up here at winter. The snow is deeper than you are and you can't go swimming, or play ball or hike in the woods. It's real cold, too, colder than you've ever been in your life."

"Really, Mr. Jim?"

"Really. The lake gets all frozen over and all the cabins are closed. There's no heat or other boys for you to play with."

"Okay. I'll be back next year, though." His little boy voice was fierce.

"I know you will." Jim passed a large hand over the boy's head. "Be good on the ride home."

The doors to the bus closed, and the counselors were left standing in the dust. The next three days would be daunting; closing the camp and making sure everything was put away for next season.

Janine pulled Jim to the side. "Mr. Frayne," she smiled at him. "You can spend the rest of today supervising the juniors, but tomorrow morning, I want you gone."

His eyes widened. "But… the camp…"

"The camp will survive without you. However, I'm not so sure you or your girlfriend will. So pack up your stuff and go home. It's been a pleasure…"

Janine didn't get out any more than that. The breath was squeezed from her body as she was enveloped in a giant bear hug. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely, releasing her.

"No problem." Her voice was shaky. Hell, if she were just twenty years younger, she'd give that Trixie a run for her money. Her lips quirked upward.

She suspected that even if she _was_ twenty years younger, Jim would not notice her at all.

It was three in the afternoon the next day when Jim pulled into the long driveway at Crabapple Farm. His palms were sweaty and all the carefully rehearsed speeches he practiced on the long drive home vanished, to be replaced by a slight panic.

It was one thing to send texts and emails. You didn't have to look in that person's eyes, to see if they reflected the same feelings you were laying bare. You didn't have to risk in-person rejection. He wiped his hands on his jeans and walked into the back, knocking lightly on the door.

"Mrs. Belden? It's me, Jim," he called through the open screen door.

"Jim! Come on in!" Helen Belden's voice rang with surprise. He walked into the kitchen, where she was surveying her newly-installed dishwasher with something akin to love. "I didn't expect you home for another few days."

"Nice dishwasher," he grinned. "I got out early. Is… um, is Trixie home?"

"Peter finally caved in and bought one. Although why now when everyone is leaving the nest for college... No, Trixie is working until four today." She watched as his handsome face fell.

"Oh. Does she have her car with her? Maybe I can go pick her up."

"Yes." The mother in her just couldn't bear Jim's obvious distress. "How about if you drive me to town, and I'll pick up Trixie's car and drive it home. I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about."

A brilliant smile lit his face. "That would be wonderful, Mrs. B. Are you sure…"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Ah… if it's okay with you, I'd like to take Trixie out to dinner." He couldn't help the slight flush as he scraped a foot on the floor.

"I'm sure Trixie would like that very much, Jim." She pulled a set of car keys from the hanger near the phone. "Let's get going." As she followed Jim out of the door and locked up, she knew in her heart that James Winthrop Frayne II was _finally_ making his move. It was obvious to anyone with two eyes how the two felt about each other. Jim would make a wonderful son-in-law. She began to plan the wedding in her head, the week after Trixie's graduation.

She was sure he wouldn't wait – or waste – a minute longer.

Jim dropped Mrs. Belden off at the municipal lot a few doors down from Brewed Awakenings. He watched her get into a cute blue Honda Civic, perfect for Trixie, and he pulled into her spot. Now came the best part and the hardest part.

Surprising his special girl. Would it be a good surprise? Or would _he_ be the one surprised? Jim's long legs ate up the sidewalk and he stood in front of the plate glass window with the logo splashed across it.

_There she was_. His heart constricted in his chest at the first sight of that beloved, curly hair. She had it up in a swingy ponytail and Jim could do nothing but stand outside, drinking her in. His whole life was on the line now.

Passersby noticed the tall, handsome red-headed man looking into the coffee shop with an amazing intensity. His feet were clad in hiking boots, and one could follow the long, lean line of his jean-clad legs, up to that narrow waist. His green plaid shirt did nothing to disguise the broad shoulders, and the rolled up sleeves exposed strong, muscular forearms. His fists were clenched tightly at his side. A day-old copper stubble highlighted his face, and there was a small smile tipping the corners of his lips up.

Oh yeah. Jim Frayne was one _delectable_ hunk.

He watched as she smiled up at some man he'd never seen before, and wondered if it was that Max guy that had been sniffing around. _Well, damn it Frayne, get in there and get your girl._ He opened the door and walked in.

Trixie _was_ speaking to Max. It was her last couple of days, and he kept seeking her out, damn the raised eyebrows. When the door jangled, she turned to smile at the new customer, and everything went still and faded away as the breath rushed out of her.

_Jim_. She blinked those china-blue eyes, half afraid she wished him into being there. When he grinned at her, that lopsided, dangerous grin that caught her heart, a fountain of joy and exuberance exploded within her. It overrode her inhibitions as she squeaked out his name.

"Jim!" And then, Trixie Belden just leaped into his arms.

Jim caught her to him, holding her so very tightly there was not one molecule that could fit between them. If she expected the tight hug, as the rose color he loved washed across her high cheekbones, she certainly did not expect what came next.

She was there, his Trixie, finally, in his arms. He simply could not help himself. He bent his head and whispered her name hoarsely, his hot breath ghosting over her cheek, making her shiver with want.

His lips brushed hers, gently and sweetly at first, but when he ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, she opened her mouth to him. He couldn't resist the invitation. They both deepened the kiss, until nothing existed but their mouths and tongues dancing, and their hands on each other's body. He reached up blindly, pulling the scrunchy out of her hair to free those glorious curls he loved so much.

It was partly the lack of breath and partly the applause, catcalls and foot-stomping of the customers that broke them apart. "We have to talk." His voice sounded thick and hoarse in her ear.

She merely nodded as he set her down, her face the most brilliant red it ever achieved. Jim looked into those haunting eyes, still blue flames and hazy with desire. _For him._

Max was dumbfounded. He could only stand there, mouth agape, while his dream girl played tonsil hockey with a tall redhead. He almost needed to get a room just watching them. He coughed a little, and in a strangled voice asked the question. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your _friend_, Trixie?"

"Ah, this is… uh…" She could not remember Jim's name. Her brain was scrambled with his kisses, the taste of him, and the knowledge he was as hot for her as she was for him.

Jim extended a freckled hand. "Hi. You must be Max. Trixie talked a lot about you. I'm her boyfriend. Jim Frayne."

_Well, she didn't say one word about you_. He wanted to wipe that silly grin off Frayne's face, but he couldn't. The two men shook hands briefly. "Max LoCascio, general manager of this store."

"Thanks for taking care of my special girl this summer." When Max looked confused, Jim went on. "You know, by giving her a job."

"Trix, you're off the clock now. Why don't you go pick up your things? I'm sure you and Jim have a lot to talk about."

"Oh. Oh yeah." Her knees were rubbery and her skin felt scorched, but she walked away with some modicum of dignity.

"Ah, Trixie told me you were working at a camp upstate?" Max was uncomfortable. He had the distinct feeling Jim was smirking at him.

"Yes." Jim flexed his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. "It's my last year, though. By this time next year, I'll be a married man."

Max's ice-blue eyes opened with shock. "Trixie didn't tell me she was _engaged."_

Jim did smile this time, just a little bit of evil shimmering through. "Oh, I gave her a diamond ring when she was thirteen and I was fifteen." No need to add it was for her to sell and buy a horse.

"When… when you were fifteen and thirteen?" _Geez, what was this? Coal-minin' country?_

Trixie came out of the back, a slight frown marring her pretty face. "Jim, I have my car here."

"No, Moms drove it back to your house. I stopped there first," he grinned at her. "Ready to go, baby?" Jim's arm stole around her. _Mine._

She stared up at him with those brilliant blue eyes and nodded. "Bye, Max!"

"Nice meeting you," Jim said as they turned to leave.

"Ah, likewise. See you tomorrow, Trixie." He wanted to go in the back and wallow in pity, but he had a store to run.

And that came first.

Jim needed to talk to Trixie, alone, but that was not going to happen in a town chock full of friends and relatives. Instead, he led her out to his car, where he leaned down, his green eyes intense, and kissed her again.

"There are lots of things I want to say to you," he whispered. "But not here." Jim reached up to tug his curl, twining its length around a long finger.

Trixie just wanted him to keep on kissing her and never stop. It just felt so good. "How about the preserve, down by the river?" There was a dirt track, if one knew where to find it, that led to a small clearing overlooking the Hudson. The BWGs found it quite a while ago. It was definitely off the beaten track, and somewhere they could be alone.

"Great idea." With a hard, possessive kiss, he helped her into the car and made a beeline for the rendezvous point. Trixie twisted her hands in her lap, a little nervous. Was everything she ever hoped for about to come true?

It was forever until Jim turned down the dirt track, jouncing and bouncing over the ruts in the road. Soon enough, the meadow appeared and he parked. "Wanna walk to the bluffs?"

She nodded, unable to speak. The couple held hands as they took the few steps that allowed them to gaze at the river below. The breeze lifted Trixie's curls, and somehow, she felt at peace looking at the gorgeous scenery. It was right that she and Jim be here, in the outdoors.

She sighed happily. "It's gorgeous here, Jim."

Jim turned her to face him. "No, _you're_ gorgeous." His emerald eyes were alight with desire. For her. For Trixie Belden. For the first time in her life, she felt beautiful.

Her heart was bursting in her chest with the words she could not keep locked up any longer. Her heart in her eyes, her voice soft but strong, she set them free.

"I love you. I always have and I always will."

Jim's eyes widened at her words, becoming the deepest emerald they ever were. He raised a rough hand to the soft skin of her face. "I loved you from the first moment I saw you in Ten Acres. There's never been anyone but you. There will never be anyone but you."

He bent down and kissed her, pulling her against him. He needed to touch her, to taste her. He just _needed_.

Her.

Trixie surrendered herself to her needs and to his. She met each kiss, each touch, and each murmur of love with equal verve. Her entire being was suffused with a golden light from within that warmed her, completing the transformation from schoolgirl to woman.

Jim broke the kiss, breathing roughly and needing a little space. His body was reminding him they were alone in a beautiful setting, and his girl was ready and willing to move beyond mere kisses. He didn't want to move that fast, to rush into making love to her. Instead, he wanted a slow, sexy build-up to the physical consummation of their love. "Marry me, Trixie," he murmured in her ear. "The week after you graduate, marry me."

The joy was so intense, she thought she would simply _die_ from it. Frayne men weren't the only ones who found their true loves at an early age.

Johnson women were the same. Her grandmother was married at 18; her mother; and now her. Trixie lifted her lips to his. "We've been married since you were fifteen and I was thirteen. All we need is to make it legal."

This time, their kiss was true and sweet, with just a shade of the delicious, dark decadence that awaited them. It was the pounding of their hearts and the hitched breathing; it was a promise of the future.

Their future. Hands entwined, they turned to follow their path.

**Epilogue**

Max LoCascio made it to the small chapel just before the service began. Getting out of the City, picking up Lindsay and waiting the late sitter for her daughter had consumed much more time than they had allotted.

As they took seats in the back of the crowded church, he reflected on the past ten months. As expected, he was transferred to the Manhattan store… which, under his stewardship, became the top producer in the chain.

He was, at first, happy to leave the dust of Sleepyside and Trixie Belden behind. She was glowing the next day when she came into work, and he knew that he never stood a chance. He watched as her friends came back, and had to smile when the seven of them entered the store, all talk and giggles and bound together forever, with that strange, unbreakable bond.

However, he really was a small-town boy at heart. New York City was big and exciting and he was super busy with the preparations for Brewed Awakenings – Manhattan. He dated a little, but found the women not quite to his taste. Instead of moving into an apartment the company wanted to provide, he gravitated back to Sleepyside, and his old apartment above the store.

After a while, he began to notice how pretty and nice Lindsay McGregor was. She was quiet, and consumed with the need to provide for her daughter. Max found out the backstory – pregnant right after high school; the boy didn't want anything to do with her or the child. Neither did her parents.

She worked, and worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, and Max had to admire that. The little girl, Dawn Marie McGregor, was five now and adorable. Before he knew it, he asked Lindsay out and a few months later, knew he was in love with her and Dawnie.

A mature kind of love, not the crush he'd had on Trixie Belden. Maybe it wasn't the grand, passionate, legendary type of thing that Trixie and Jim so obviously shared, but it was real and suited them just fine.

He was surprised to receive the elegant invitation, but Lindsay was so excited, he had to RSVP his acceptance. It wasn't often a woman like her had a chance to party with the elite at the Country Club.

He glanced up the aisle, where Jim was waiting. Max could never understand why women swooned over the redhead, but he supposed the man looked rather dashing. He saw Mrs. Belden being escorted to her seat, and the ceremony began.

Max recognized the BWGs, those birds that always flocked together. Bobby Belden with one of the Lynch twins – you couldn't tell them apart. Dan Mangan was with a darkly beautiful girl that Lindsay whispered was Trixie's cousin, Hallie.

Mart Belden, Trixie's lookalike brother, with the beautiful Diana Lynch. Finally, Honey Wheeler and Brian Belden, both with suspiciously moist eyes. The congregation arose for the next person to walk down the aisle… the young bride.

Jim watched his family as they slowly made their way up to the altar. Bobby gave him a cheeky wink; Dan a shaky smile. He never liked being the center of attention. Mart joined Dan at Jim's side; the two women on the bride's side were perfect examples of fresh, jeunes filles.

His sister looked so pretty, smiling at him through tears. Maid of honor! She was escorted by the best man, resplendent in a tuxedo. Brian pulled Honey a little closer, and his own coal-dark eyes were bright.

As they took their places at the altar, Jim expected he might feel nervous. In the grand scheme of things, his bride was barely eighteen and he wouldn't be twenty for several weeks. They were so young, yet… he was not nervous at all.

She was stunning, his Trixie. A simple bias cut gown outlined her curves to perfection. Her hair was a riot of curls piled on top of her head, crowned with a wreath of white orchids. Her bouquet was the same flower, delicate yet strong, like her. Jim sucked in an audible breath, overwhelmed.

For a moment the chapel disappeared, and it was just them, in a decaying old mansion in a room filled with dusty old junk. Emerald met sapphire, much as it did on that first day, and Jim smiled.

Trixie walked down the long aisle with her father, her eyes riveted on the man waiting for her with love shining out of every pore. She didn't feel her father place her hand into Jim's, was mesmerized until he kissed her cheek.

Jim picked up the hand Peter Belden had placed in his, lifted it to his lips. "Hi, my name's Jim. What do you say we get married?"

Trixie's answering smile was a brilliant as the sun. "I'm Trixie Belden and I say, let's do it!"

The late afternoon sun shone brightly through the stained glass windows as the young couple pledged their troth.

As with two passionate, strong-willed persons, they lived noisily… but happily… ever after.


End file.
